The horse slipped on a boulder and dropped to his front knees, letting out a pitiful moan as he fought unsuccessfully to regain his footing. Kyle stood up, found himself similarly shaky-legged, and slowly made his way to the horse. “Just wait, Garfield,” he implored as he bent to stroke the animal’s head, then descended the slope to the river. Blood covered his hands, arms, and face, and he washed it off before taking a drink, then cupped his hands and scooped some water from the river. He retraced his steps back to the wounded animal and trickled the water onto the horse’s tongue.
Garfield responded to the cold liquid, lapping at it as best he could. Kyle repeated the process until Garfield no longer responded to the water, and he rolled over onto his less injured side and laid his head on the ground, resuming his slow, rhythmic breathing. Kyle walked back to the saddle on the ground and fished out an old undershirt, wrapping it tightly around his arm in an attempt to stem the bleeding. He doctored his various wounds, then followed the trail of blood on the highway back to the dying animal.
Garfield lay immobile on the ground, his chest no longer moving, his limbs still. Kyle rubbed the horse’s nose. “I’m so sorry, friend,” he said as he dropped beside him. “I’m so, so, sorry.” He gazed at the animal in silence, Garfield’s mane fluttering in the wind the only movement.
Kyle returned to where he’d set the saddle and stared down at it. All of his possessions were attached to it, along with some deer meat and a few other food items his father had sent. The next town was over five miles away, with an unknown number of homes along the way. He plopped down, leaned back against the saddle, and reloaded the magazines for his pistol, now uncomfortably short on ammo. He had his backpack, but somewhere along the way, he was going to have to find someone willing to trade a saddle for a duffle bag or, better yet, a bicycle, and hopefully a few other supplies to help him get home. He rested for a long time until, somewhat recovered, he stood up, grabbed the saddle by the horn, hefted it onto his back with a grunt, and once again began the journey home on foot.
CHAPTER 47
Monday, March 19th
Deer Creek, MT
David opened the door and leaned outside. “Mom, Grace says that dinner is ready. You should come in now.”
Jennifer looked at David, her face betraying the mixture of emotions she was experiencing.
“No sign of dad?” he asked, knowing what was on her mind.
She shook her head. “Nothing. I’ve been watching for the last two hours, and still nothing.”
“He’ll be okay. He made it from Texas; he can make it from Idaho.”
Jennifer swallowed, though the lump in her throat made it difficult. “You’re sure dad told Frank he would be home on the sixteenth?”
“Yes, Mom. You’ve already asked me that multiple times. And I’m sure. He’ll probably be home tomorrow. He’s on horseback, so, you know, it’s tough to predict how long the trip will take.”
“Thanks, David,” Jennifer said with a half-hearted smile. “I should be the one reassuring you, not the other way around.”
“Let’s go eat. It’s spaghetti. Grace used some more of her food storage stuff. It looks like real food, but she says the sauce is from powder, and we don’t have mushrooms, or cheese,” he thought a couple seconds, “or real hamburger, or butter, or peppers, or…”
“I get it David. It’s not like real spaghetti.”
He nodded with a grin. “Well, it isn’t, but it still looks and smells pretty good, especially compared to all the wheat and bean stuff we eat most of the time.”
Jennifer stepped inside, and David followed her to the kitchen. A big pot on the table was filled with spaghetti and sauce that had been stirred together. Carol, Grace, Emma and Spencer were already seated, with Spencer eyeing the food ravenously.
“Looks good, doesn’t it, Spence?” Jennifer said as she sat down.
Spencer nodded, keeping his eyes locked on the food. “I love spaghetti,” he muttered.
Grace smiled. “I’m glad to hear that little Spencer,” she said. “I’ll have to make it more. I’ve been trying to pace our food use, but we’ll be able to start growing a garden again soon, so maybe I don’t have to hold back as much.”
“That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” Jennifer said.
Spencer nodded, still focused on the food.
Grace offered a blessing, then they began to eat. Jennifer watched as her children attacked the food and felt a pang of guilt cut through her as they devoured the meal, so obviously hungry, yet so rarely complaining. Jennifer picked at the food on her plate. She was as hungry as the rest, but her stomach was too tied in knots to eat much. “Slow down, David,” she said. “You should try tasting it a little bit before you swallow.”
“David swallowed and kept shoveling. “Sorry, but this is real good, and I’m pretty hungry.”
Jennifer returned the smile, but inwardly she wanted to cry. Her kids were all skinny and dirty, as well as smelly, if the truth was told. And their father was missing. It all tore at her heart every time she thought about it.
Jennifer had just taken a mouthful when Carol spoke up. “Did anyone hear the big news today?” she asked as she looked expectantly around the table. No one answered, so she went on. “I was checking on Craig Reider’s daughter this morning, she’s been sick, and anyways, she told me that her uncle is getting married.”
“Who’s her uncle,” Emma asked, looking up from her food.
“It’s Sean, from the militia, isn’t it?” David said, looking at Carol.
Carol nodded. “It is Sean, and he’s engaged.”
“Who’s he marrying?” Jennifer asked, only half listening to the conversation but still curious about the answer. “Someone from Clinton? I don’t think there’s anyone in Deer Creek, is there?”
Carol shook her head. “It’s not Clinton, and it’s not Deer Creek. She’s from Wyoming.”
Jennifer’s jaw dropped. “You mean he’s marrying Rose?”
Carol nodded and grinned widely. “That’s what I mean. Apparently he asked her last night, and she said yes.”
“I didn’t even know they were dating,” Jennifer said, before taking another forkful of food.
“How do you even date around here? It’s not like you can go to a movie, or a restaurant or anything.” David wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. “I did see them talking a few times. How long has she been here?”
“It’s been about a month,” Jennifer said, doing the math in her head. “She got here a couple of weeks after your dad left.”
“Don’t you have to know each other for a long time before you can get married?” Emma asked, scraping the last bit of food into her mouth.
“There aren’t any rules, Emma,” David said. “If you knew anything about love, you’d know that.”
“Like you know anything about it,” Emma shot back. “Or are you still in love with Amy?”
David went red in the face and stared daggers at his sister. “Just shut up, Emma,” he said as she laughed at him.
“Kids,” Jennifer said, raising her hands. “No fighting at the table, or anywhere else for that matter. Just cut it out. And David’s right. There aren’t any rules for falling in love.”
David gave Emma a smirk, which she just ignored. “So why do people get married, anyway?” Emma asked.
“Because they love each other,” Spencer said, joining the conversation.
“But they already love each other. They don’t need to be married to do that. Do they, Mom?”
Jennifer shook her head. “Of course not, sweetie. I love you and your brothers, and we’re not married.”
“So why do people get married?” Emma asked her mother, curious.
“Ahh, I guess, it’s just more of a tradition, than anything.” Jennifer stammered, looking around the table for help with the question. “It’s just what we do.”
Grace raised her hand. “Mind if I chime in?”
Jennifer nodded, grateful for the help.